ly just begun to know them,
when I was obliged to leave. The prospect of returning presents many
charms, but it leaves me alone in the midst of a strange land.

I find myself happily situated here, in many respects. The Marchioness
Arconati Visconti, to whom I brought a letter from a friend of hers
in France, has been good to me as a sister, and introduced me to many
interesting acquaintance. The sculptors, Powers and Greenough, I have
seen much and well. Other acquaintance I possess, less known to fame,
but not less attractive.

Florence is not like Rome. At first, I could not bear the change; yet,
for the study of the fine arts, it is a still richer place. Worlds of
thought have risen in my mind; some time you will have light from all.

* * * * *

_Milan, Aug_. 9, 1847.--Passing from Florence, I came to Bologna. A
woman should love Bologna, for there has the intellect of woman been
cherished. In their Certosa, they proudly show the monument to Matilda
Tambreni, late Greek professor there. In their anatomical hall, is the
bust of a woman, professor of anatomy. In art, they have had Properzia
di Rossi, Elisabetta Sirani, Lavinia Fontana, and delight to give
their works a conspicuous place. In other cities, the men alone have
their Casino dei Nobili, where they give balls and conversazioni.
Here, women have one, and are the soul of society. In Milan, also, I
see, in the Ambrosian Library, the bust of a female mathematician.

TO HER MOTHER.

_Lago di Garda, Aug_. 1, 1847.--Do not let what I have written disturb
you as to my health. I have rested now, and am as well as usual. This
advantage I derive from being alone, that, if I feel the need of it, I
can stop.

I left Venice four days ago; have seen well Vicenza, Verona, Mantua,
and am reposing, for two nights and a day, in this tranquil room which
overlooks the beautiful Lake of Garda. The air is sweet and pure, and
I hear no noise except the waves breaking on the shore.

I think of you a great deal, especially when there are flowers.
Florence was all flowers. I have many magnolias and jasmines. I always
wish you could see them. The other day, on the island of San Lazaro,
at the Armenian Convent, where Lord Byron used to go, I thought of
you, seeing the garden full of immense oleanders in full bloom. One
sees them everywhere at Venice.

TO HER TRAVELLING COMPANIONS AFTER PARTING.

_Milan, Aug_. 9, 1847.--I remaine